


Small Talk

by LT_Aldo_Raine



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angry Nixon, Austria, Canon Era, M/M, Or you could just read it as a friendship fic, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LT_Aldo_Raine/pseuds/LT_Aldo_Raine
Summary: At a beautiful mountaintop resort in Austria, Dick Winters makes a confession to his best buddy Lewis Nixon: he's applied for a transfer to the Pacific. Needless to say, Nixon is less than pleased.OR: “Goddamn it, Dick."





	Small Talk

**Author's Note:**

> No disrespect is meant to the real life heroes of Easy Company. Any mentions here are based on the portrayals of the men in the HBO miniseries, not the actual men themselves. I have the utmost respect towards the men of the 506th and their families! 
> 
> Un-beta'd!   
> Hope you enjoy.

“Lew, if I'm going, I want to go ahead and get over there, so I can know what I'm dealing with.”

It was early in the afternoon, and Winters and Nixon were lounging on the balcony of Winters's hotel suite in Austria, bathing in the sunlight and feeling utterly removed from the frozen forest of Bastogne. The conversation had started pleasantly enough—updates on the mens' training, details about supply runs, and so on—, but when the easygoing chatter slowed, Winters knew it was time. He had to bite the bullet and quit stalling. Because above all else, Nixon deserved to hear it from him first—before word got around at headquarters.

Of course, when Winters confessed about his request for a transfer to the Pacific, Nixon took it as well as was to be expected. Which is to say, he didn't take it very well at all.

“That's the thing, Dick—you don't have to go. You have more than enough points, and given your rank and everything you've done for this damn army over the last three years—shit, Dick, if you asked to go home, no one would stop you.”

“I can't just go home, Lew. Our boys are getting slaughtered over there.”

“No, they aren't. _Our_ boys are here, and they're safe. And that's because of _you_. Jesus Christ, can't you just be happy with that and leave it alone?” Nixon's thoughts flickered back to Toccoa, to Easy Company and how far they'd made it because of his best friend's careful leadership alone.

When Winters had handed in the papers for his transfer, Nixon had been the only thing on his mind. Not the men of Easy Company (and the rest of the battalion) that he was leaving behind, not the war in the Pacific and the Japanese, not his family back home on the East Coast—his thoughts in that exact moment were all on his buddy Lew. On this moment. On the look on Nixon's face when Winters confessed what he'd done. Winters had known to expect anger from his closest friend, perhaps disappointment. But he hadn't anticipated genuine, outright rage. 

“Is this a career move?” Nixon all but barked, arms shaking with anger, fingers reaching for a familiar flask. “What did Sink offer you, huh? Did he promise-”

“Of course, not, Lew,” Winters cut him off gently, and the soft tone of his voice tipped Nixon over the edge. Because, of fucking course, Dick was going to be calm and collected even now. “Hell, Dick, what if something happens to you over there? I _can't_ —! You can't just—! What about...?” 

Nixon thought about trying to make it through the day without Winters by his side. Of going to bed without knowing that Winters would be there to wake him in the morning. He thought of the worry. Of shipping back home and waiting to hear news about Winters's whereabouts, terrified every second of every day that Winters had been shot or captured by the Japanese—like some damn army wife. 

It wasn't right. Nixon couldn't image a world where Winters was off fighting a war without him. He just couldn't. 

“Goddamn it, Dick,” Nixon hissed. His gaze shifted away from his friend's sympathetic face over to the gorgeous scenery, the mountains surrounding their little slice of Austrian paradise. He felt the warm sunshine on his face, the gentle tickle of an afternoon breeze, but more than anything, he felt the presence of the man beside him. And just like that, his anger dissipated and only reluctant acceptance remained. “Alright, fine. Let's do it.” 

Winters blinked. “Pardon?” 

“What?” Nixon turned to him. “Oh, like I'm going to let you go by yourself? Please. You wouldn't know what to do without me.”

And at that, Winters smiled in spite of himself. The selfish part of him that had grown accustomed to Nixon's constant presence and support was happy to hear this, despite his overall concern for his best friend's safety—the situation in the Pacific was far removed from the tranquil peace and beauty of Austria. He spoke, softly, “You don't have to do this, Lew. Not for me.” 

Nixon sighed and braced his arms against the porch railing. “Yeah, Dick, I do.” 

His tone was heavy. Nixon's voice spoke of something deeper than simple wartime camaraderie, than loyalty to a fellow brother-in-arms. It left the air around them thick and tense. Winters hesitated. He briefly considered arguing against it, but he knew it would be pointless. Once Lewis Nixon's mind was made up, there simply was no going back. Besides, if Nixon hadn't asked him to stay, hadn't put their friendship on the line to force Winters to keep out of harm's way, what right did Winters have to try and sway him in return? 

“Alright,” Winters eventually conceded. Feeling the lingering tension of the moment, he attempt to reclaim some levity. Elbowing Nixon playfully, he murmured, “-but you've gotta tell Harry.” 

Nixon groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh, great...just  _great._ ”

 


End file.
